


I'll Be Back before You Know I'm Gone.

by Kanin0



Category: Everyman HYBRID, MLAndersen0, TribeTwelve
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Clockhand Children, Death, Dont want to spoil anything, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other, Will add more tags as it goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 11:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8530903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanin0/pseuds/Kanin0
Summary: HABIT has gone too far this time. Now he has his old rival, and a... New rival, to deal with. Never before did he think he'd be scared of losing to anyone, but there's a first time for everything. Looks like he should have left Noah alone. Now Noah is an actual threat.





	1. Goodbye

The dark, dusty attic.

 

It was all Noah could think about as he sat in that very place, bound, muffled, and bloody. He was alone for now, but he wouldn’t be for long. The worst part? He could do nothing about it.

 

Noah was going to die.

 

Brutally, too. He was already bleeding out. Why did he ever come up with the idea of sneaking into HABITs house? It was a horrible mistake. He didn’t even know if HABIT had what Noah and Patrick were looking for. This whole sneak-in was based around assumptions, and now he was going to pay with his life. His only life. He wasted it on this, and now Patrick was going to find out that Noah was a fool all along.

 

 _‘He’s going to be devastated,’_ Noah thought. ‘ _And it’s all my fault.’_

 

Noah let salty tears slip down his cheeks, and he struggled against the cloth keeping his arms bound even more. It was hard to though, since he was mortally wounded already.

 

Suddenly, he felt the tie loosen. Noahs eyes snapped open, and he pulled harder. The cloth came loose. He was free!

 

But Noah had thought too fast. Yes, he could now move, but he soon realized that he still could not leave the room no matter how hard he tried. He was too weak to push against the door and possibly break the lock. He could hardly even walk. HABIT would kill him brutally and violently. Noah thought to himself, as he looked around. He saw weapons all over the room. If Noah was going to die, maybe he could at least make it quick.

 

Thats when he saw it, glittering on the third row on a shelf. There, gleaming in the light like a fiery metal, was the clockhand. Noahs eyes widened. So, HABIT did have it…

 

Noah practically limped over to the shelf, and with effort, he managed to reach up and grab the clockhand. To his surprise, there was no jolt of static like the other clockhand had. Noah realized that it was because the clockhand child that was once in the clockhand was not living in it.

 

Noah teared up. “Patrick..”

 

He let his hand grip the clockhand tightly, careful to not hold onto the sharp, pointy tip…

 

Just then, Noah heard footsteps come closer to the door. Noah gasped. It was HABIT.

 

HABIT taunted Noah when he tortured him, telling him that he was going to send Noahs body to Patrick in a box. Now Noah knew what to do.

 

Noah held the clockhand just in front of his heart, and, letting tears stream from his eyes, stabbed himself with it.

 

He gasped loudly, crying in pain, and let himself tumble to the ground. He slipped the clockhand into his pocket then, and let himself quickly bleed out.

 

He felt like his soul was leaving his body… And he let his eyes slipped closed.

 

“Goodbye…” Noah said, and his heart stopped beating.

 

* * *

 

 

Patrick was sleeping soundly, snoring a little. He hardly even slept, and having some time to rest felt nice. He was still waiting for Noah to get back from his trip to see his grandfather in New Jersey. He felt strange, however. He had a bad, ominous feeling in his chest as he slept.

 

Suddenly, a knock was heard downstairs. His eyes snapped open like he hadn’t slept at all. ‘Noah!’ Patrick thought, happily. He got out of bed, and before he went to the door, fluffed the pillows for Noahs fluffier hair, and made the bed, before skipping downstairs and heading toward the door.

 

He looked through the window next to the door, and he didn’t see Noah. He was confused. He went over to the door, and when he opened it, he saw a long box sitting on the porch. Patrick immediately felt a sense of fear wash through him. Something was very, very wrong.

 

He went closer to the box, and smelled something… Metallic, in the air. His eyes widened suddenly, knowing that the smell was blood, and he quickly opened the box.

 

Patricks body froze, like a stone, as he stared down into the box. There was Noah, his Noah, covered in blood, and with a large stab wound by his heart. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t moving.

 

He was dead.

 

Patrick slowly found his body shaking without control, and before he even knew what was happening, he was crying uncontrollably. He looked at Noahs lifeless body, and pulled it close to him. He was still warm. He just died recently.

 

He buried his face into Noahs chest, clutching his body, and sobbed helplessly. He screamed then, over and over again, hardly able to control the pain he was going through. He couldn’t stop the crying.

 

“No, no no no no no, NOAH.” Patrick cried, and he shook violently, holding his dead love in his arms for the last time. Everything he did, everything he cared about, all his hopes, his dreams, were now dashed away. Noah was the only one he truly loved, and now he was gone.

 

Patrick slowly pulled his head back, and looked at Noahs face, which was peaceful. It was like he was just sleeping. Patrick wanted to think that, but no. No, his heart wasn’t beating. His love, his darling, was dead. Dead and gone.

 

And he couldn’t bring him back. He was a clockhand child, and Noah was human. Humans stay dead.

 

He carried Noahs limp body out of the box, and looked at it with tears still streaming down his eyes. He shook as he set Noah down in the grass for a moment, and got a shovel. He cried helplessly as he dug a shallow hole, big enough for Noahs nimble body. He picked Noah up, and set him in the two-feet hole gently, as if he was setting Noah into bed.

 

He suddenly became disillusioned. He laughed as he let tears stream down his cheeks, looking at Noahs body one last time, before kissing Noahs cheek, and covering the hole with dirt.

 

“Goodnight, Precious.” Patrick said softly, as he sat next to the patch of dirt.

 

He remembered something, and he went back inside. He went up the steps, and went into the bedroom. He saw the vase of flowers on the nightstand, and took it into his hands. Noah had given him these.

 

He went downstairs, nearly falling because of how hard he shook, and he went back to the dirt grave. He poked little holes in a circle around the dirt, and he put single flowers in each one, letting them grow off of Noahs pure spirit. They were many different variations of colors, and Patrick smiled sadly as he remembered when Noah and Patrick saw a rainbow just a few days ago. 

 

He finally let his head rest on the dirt just above Noahs body, and he curled into a ball, wishing he heard Noahs heartbeat. Finally, he let his eyes close, and he passed out, dreaming of the good days he and Noah had.

 

“Goodbye..” Patrick whispered.

 

 

 


	2. Wrongdoing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HABIT and Patrick have a chat.

Patrick awoke when he felt sunlight dimly lighting his face, and his eyes slowly opened. He felt dirt rubbing on his face, and he sat up. He saw the mound of dirt, where Noahs body was buried, and he saw the flowers surrounding him. Tears sprung to his face again, but he quickly wiped them all away, trying to remain as calm as he could manage in a time like this. Looking around, he suddenly noticed that there was a small envelop sticking out of the front door. He scowled just from looking at it. he didnt want to think about anything right now except his love. Shakily standing up, Patrick walked over and picked it up carefully, feeling nothing but paper inside it. He sighed and rolled his eyes. He might as well read it.

 

He opened it, and as soon as he looked at the writing, he immediately knew who wrote it. He scowled the whole way through reading it.

 

 

\-----

_HEY, CLOCK FUCKER._

 

_YEAH, YOUR BITCH IS DEAD. GET OVER IT._

 

_MORE IMPORTANT THINGS ARE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW_

_AND WE NEED TO FUCKING TALK, RIGHT NOW._

 

_DON’T WANT TO? TOO BAD. LOOK UP._

\-----

 

 

He looked up, and saw that he had been transported to another location. He stumbled a bit, getting used to the sudden change of his surroundings. Looking around, he recognized the place as Evans house. Well, what used to be Evans house. He scowled. Great.

As if on cue, HABITs presence immediately became known. He apparated right behind Patrick, and mumbled “Hello, you fuck.”

 

Patrick swerved around, and saw HABIT looking at him, frowning. Patrick growled. “What do you want, and how did you know about Noah?”

 

HABIT laughed. “Because, you dumb fuck, i’m the reason he’s gone.”

 

Patricks eyes widened, and he quickly tried to swing a punch at HABIT square on, but HABIT dodged it. “Listen up, Clock Fucker. I didn’t kill him, he killed himself. I just.. Drove him to that point..- But that isn’t what matters. What matters is that my clockhand is missing.”

 

Patrick was shaking with anger. HABIT fucking hurt Noah! And at the mention of the clockhand, Patrick scoffed. “Oh, so you did have it, you fucking cheat!”

 

HABIT glared. “Yes, I fucking HAD it, but now I don’t know where the fuck it is.”

 

Patrick got even angrier. “Oh, so you lost it?! Good job. I don’t have it.”

 

HABIT scowled, before, pacing around the room. “The kid must have taken it…” HABIT said finally. Patrick smiled. ‘God, Noah’s smart. He must have taken it.’

Patrick watched HABITs pacing with watchful eyes, waiting for an opportunity to fight back.

 

HABIT seemed to get angrier with every step. “WHERE DID HE PUT IT?!” He said, lashing out and letting his demonic voice show through. Patrick sighed, and a heavy shake, reminiscent of grief, went through his body. “I don’t know, HABIT. All I know is that the last thing id ever do is help you, after what you’ve done. In fact…”

 

Patrick leaned close to HABITs ear. “You’ve just gained a new enemy, Rabbit Fucker.”

 

And with that, Patrick was gone, leaving HABIT angry and confused.

 

 

Patrick apparated back to his house, and went inside. He stormed around the house angrily, practically throwing things, screaming, and crying wildly in anger. He was a wreck now. Noah was his rock. He needed Noah.

 

He cried and cried until finally, he fell asleep on the couch, not noticing when his old clockhand suddenly gave out a loud signal. A clockhand child had awoken.


End file.
